Where did she go
Where did she go,with a backpack
hair tie dyed,
Precocious
before the word
became
a byline
for being independent
Now, she is responsible
an adult,
with gucci glasses
who buys duty free
in seamless places,
where once she painted
moustaches
with a fine line pencil
the only weight she carried
was in a pack on her back
instead of a suitcase with wheels
that was a relic
before she became boring.
She buys things in tubes
and finds English food
a little chewy and lacking
the flavours she loves,
spices in a racks now
but she has her secret stash
and deep inside
her signature handbag
she delves at little secrets.
Dawn is her best time
sublime, she revels
in naked langour
the hint of her
still reminiscent,
she walks into perfume
The scent of cardomon
cinnamon on sticks,
it keeps sugar dry
and a lie
is just a silence
when someone
asks
a question
She was enigmatic
before
they solved cryptic clues,
she slips between
the sliding doors
of Garnier and Cacherel
Poetry by Elle
Read 482 times
Written on 2012-07-08 at 19:55
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